The kids are back in school. The puppy has established a routine. I’ve now found a way to get back outside with the farm already. There is so much to do, I find it overwhelming at times. Today is warm. T-shirt weather. With all the cold that is going around in the world, I probably shouldn’t say that out loud.
When I clean the house or a room that has been ransacked by small children or puppy, I start at the deepest darkest corner. Inch by inch I claim space back. Now is the time to do this with the bad growing things on the farm. The blackberries ( brambles ), the twiggy crap, the overgrown and unwanted figs or the lottery win of plum trees. The leaves are gone which allow you to see a path.
I started at the front of the farm. I worked my way down the fence line until the big oak. I LOVE the big oaks. It took so long for them to become big oaks, I admire their persistence and strength.
Under one big oak, is a small pile of trash. The trash was revealed after the cows grazed the paddock for the first time in that paddock’s life. I’m not sure how long that stuff was sitting there, but we’ve been cleaning it up. I grabbed the last bits and bobs. Then I found this odd item, a cassette tape. It looked so quaint and analog, I thought of cassettes tapes of my boombox age. New Edition, Culture Club, Tears for Fears, Doug E Fresh or anything I taped off the radio ( omg! you can record! what an amazing device! ) …. Oh such tunage. Six minutes, Doug E Fresh. It was a mad world. Inserting a USB stick doesn’t feel as satisfying as opening a cassette tape … or sliding out a record, for that matter.
I looked closely to read that this particular relic was a recording of The Beatles. The Beatles! I’ve never been a fan of the Beatles, but after a year or so listening to Pick Of The Pops, I appreciate their mania. Years before the Beatles were around, people were forced or chose to listen to absolute crap. In today’s times, we’ve hit crap with the overuse of Auto-tune. Auto-tune puts the voice through a computer process that keeps it on pitch or now, thank you Cher, adds the voice like a processed, electronic instrument rather than some dude or dudette that sings. When things, like The Beatles or The Chipmunks, come along, the people are loving it. A change! Something amazing! Nirvana!
Rosebud, the pick-up truck, has a cassette tape player. We’ve not seen those pieces in so long, I have no idea if it works. The Beatles are a bit cracked. It looks like the previous owner stopped listening somewhere around Michelle and In My Life. There might be something there.
Jean-Something: “Michelle, my belle,” … bitch! you ruined me!
Doug E Fresh: Oh golly wolly
Jean-Something: Why Jean-Claude?! Why, Michelle!!??? Merde! ”
[ Tape then tossed under a small oak tree. ]
Doug E Fresh: “She said, um, my name is Maggie but call me Michelle” [ beatbox follows ]